


I'll Do My Best

by inmyopinion



Category: Carole & Tuesday (Anime)
Genre: Are You Guys LGBT or Something?, Camboy Pyotr, Cutesy, Dumb Mistakes, Everyone Is Gay, Fun, Gamer Pyotr, Gamer Roddy, Gamer Tuesday, Gay Little Pyotr, Gen, Light-Hearted, Minecraft, Streaming, Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, Tagging is Sucky, They Are Vibing, This Is STUPID, kind of, silly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyopinion/pseuds/inmyopinion
Summary: Pyotr tries to stream video games for a change. For the most part, it starts well.For the most part.
Kudos: 10





	I'll Do My Best

Pyotr didn’t know a lot of things, but was at least certain of this: he was famous.

With a few million Instagram followers under his belt, along with joining forces with GGK, he’d certainly gained traction compared to the early days. Even then, when he told his managers he felt comfortable where he was, they told him it might be best to branch out. The suggestion shocked him at first, though it wasn’t unwelcomed. When he asked further questions about what he could do, they brought up a hobby he hid from the outside world: gaming.

He never talked about this interest of his with anyone. It’s not like he feared anyone finding out about it; the topic just never came up, though he didn’t mind that. He preferred playing whatever games he had within the confines of his home alone, especially late at night, either with the bright LED of a handheld or the bright lights of his PC. He never liked home consoles, though the Switch was an exception. 

“What should I do with the games?” he asked, eyes twinkling and head tilting as he waited for one of his managers’ responses. While both were shabby, older men, both knew what they were doing in the industry.

“Well, we talked about it,” one said.

“How does streaming them sound?” the other asked.

Pyotr didn’t hesitate in giving his approval. Before he knew it, his company had an enormous box of tech supplies shipped to him, all to stream whatever games he could play. While he considered having an A.I. come over to fix it up for him, he thought an actual person would suffice. After texting whoever it was to play technician for him, he set up an account while waiting for them to arrive in his apartment. 

Two words could describe his apartment: large and luxurious. It held modern furniture, unnervingly minimalistic from the kitchen to the bathroom, though his bedroom was an exception. On rare occasions, he let people enter it, the feeling like going from a black and white movie to one in full Technicolor. It looked like a child went on and colored everything with crayons, vivid colors mixing on everything; from the walls, the bed, his carpet, even his PC setup, it was all a near neon nightmare. And in that nightmare, he now sat, sitting before his desk and staring at the monitor before him. 

His streams often stuck to Instagram, but he insisted to everyone he knew he wouldn’t have a hard time setting everything up himself. “Streaming site,” he murmured to himself as he typed in each letter, not the fastest though he tried. What came up were several sites, but he chose the first one: _Boy Toys_. That sounded fine, right?

He clicked past the _Adults Only!_ warning without another thought, met with pictures of other men in provocative poses that were apparently streaming. While he’d love to show support, he had to make his account. With a few clicks, he filled up forms, typing away with diligence all his basic information. Then he had to pick a username.

“U-ser-name,” he murmured to himself, each syllable leaving him whilst he thought of a good one. Naming it after a song of his could be fun, or change it to his actual name, though both sounded boring. He pouted before glancing at the wall, realizing he stared in his kitchen's direction.

 _instantnoodles_ , he typed in, and as if a miracle put upon him, it wasn’t taken yet. Without another thought, he registered the account and pumped his fist in the air out of excitement. He could stream now!

Oh right. The equipment.

He glanced back at the mess he made on the bed, unboxing items from small yet quality cameras to a massive green screen; setting it up would never be on his radar. That’s why he sighed in relief when he heard his doorbell ring. Without hesitation, he hopped up onto his feet and ran to the door, opening it without peeking through the peephole.

“Oh-! Hi, great to see you! Last time we talked was that Mars Memorial thing, huh?” Roddy asked, a grin on his face.

“Hi!” Pyotr stepped out of the way, watching the other boy enter. “Yeah, it’s been too long; I’m surprised you even agreed.” To him, it was funny how similar their outfits were; white shirt, blue jeans as a base. On top of Pyotr's base was a pink sweater, whilst Roddy wore a denim jacket. 

Roddy chuckled and shook his head, glancing around the spacious apartment with a bit of awe. “Oh, I don’t mind. You’re close with Tuesday and I haven’t been doing too much so . . .” The sentence trailed off, not getting back on track soon. “So where do you keep your PC?”

“Oh, in my bedroom!” Pyotr ran up to Roddy’s side, pointing to a door on the far right, leading him into the amalgamation of colors he called a bedroom. If he took even the quickest of glances back at Roddy, he’d see pure shock for a moment. By the time Pyotr even looked back at the other, he was already sorting out and looking through all the boxes on the bed.

“Wow, they really set you up with some great stuff.” Roddy picked up a box with a microphone, careful with it as he read over the text on it. Then he looked over to the PC; to say it impressed him was an understatement. He also realized what website was open, his eyes wide and cheeks flustered, but shrugged it off. It wasn’t his business. “There _are_ impressive set-ups, sure, but this is stuff they only get pros.” 

For the typical person, the immediate reaction would be shock and confusion. Why own such high-quality equipment for the most basic of games? Of streams? And yet Pyotr smiled and nodded.

“That just means I can give the best streams!”

Roddy smiled, though unsure why.

*

Pyotr, after starting his stream, shared the link on all his other social media. Immediately after, he closed his phone and turned his camera, face revealed to the thousands of people already there.

“Hi! How’s everyone doing?” he asked with a grin. Then he paused. “Pow!”

What he saw on his one monitor was himself, the chat, his sound levels, and other random things Roddy taught him about. While overwhelming at first, he could cope. Instead, he looked to his other monitor now. 

“It’s my first time streaming like this! So exciting, pow!” He opened up a window, the Minecraft menu flashing onto the screen. “I thought I’d play one of the basics!”

And he did. He built his basic dirt house, his sad little tools, and built himself up. He mined and fought, holding back screams of shock at spiders, and it all kept getting better for him. Many pows ensued.

All the while he read his chat, responding to many fans about random questions, although a few strange words came up.

_Who’s going to tell him?_   
_i thought i’d see more_   
_PYOTR WHY ARE YOU ON BOY TOYS SDFSDF_   
_cursed stream_

The words were vague to him. What was so wrong with his stream? He briefly pouted at each one before going on playing, shrugging them off. As far as he was aware, he was only playing a fun video game on a fun little website. 

Then a certain ringtone rang into his ears. For a moment, the shock that came over him was one because he forgot to silence his phone. After a quick realization it was one of the generic ringtones, his shock worsened. 

_My manager?_ Pyotr asked himself, looking beyond worried. Either of his managers calling him during anything important signified the worst.

“Ah, I’m sorry! I think we need to end here!” Pyotr reached for his mouse, rushing his cursor onto the other screen to shut everything down. He hopped out of his seat, running towards the ringing, picking up his phone right before the ringing ended. He pressed it to his ear.

“Hello—”

“Pyotr!” The manager sounded mad. “You’re—you—oh my god, check the news. _Shit_.”

Pyotr never heard the other sound so angered, and he dropped the call. Check the news? What the hell did he do? He looked down at his phone as he checked Twitter, eyes wide when he noticed his name trending. With hesitance, he pressed on his own name. The first article from MBC Gossip said it all.

The headline read: _Popular Mars star starts a porn camboy account?_ Though underneath it said, _He’s not doing what you think he is_. Above the text was a picture of him from a recent modeling gig, a pair of cat ears on his head as he held up chocolate bars.

“Porn?” he murmured to himself, blinking. He didn’t have a problem with that medium, far from it, but he didn’t know he was working on a porn website. There were no shady ads when he signed up (because of an ad blocker), and all the pictures he saw looked perfectly safe for the public. Had he duped himself? He fell back onto his bed, scrolling through news articles before his eyes met with fans’ comments this time. He braced himself for the worst.

But it wasn’t the worst, was it?

He didn’t get the backlash he expected, only seeing people that found the situation humorous. Genius, even, from a marketing strategy. What he got was praise, and it was then he realized most assumed he _meant_ to be on there. He meant to play Minecraft with a stupid smile while everyone else showed off their bodies, seductive and all.

The more he read on, the wider his smile grew, and he soon returned to his timeline. An apology that brewed in his mind dissipated, replaced by a need to please. No, it wasn’t he who was wrong; it was the managers!

 _POOOOW,_ he started the tweet, knowing it got people’s attention. _sorry for today’s stream going down! i’m busy tomorrow with some new things, but i’ll start up another stream the day after tomorrow!!!_

Then he hit the tweet button.

*

Pyotr’s managers didn’t tell him off after that. Instead, with pure hesitance, they let him go on with the streaming. It had been a month since then and it was one of his best decisions yet. Something fun _and_ profitable? Sounded like a good deal.

“We have special guests today!” Pyotr said, excited as he stared into the camera. Then, he glanced to the side at two people off to the side. “You guys know who it is?”

There were several guesses, GGK the most common, though only a select few were right. He let the chat go on and on, giving names from the most serious to absolute jokes.

“I saw some people guess the first one, but not the other guest.” He hummed. “Okay, let me introduce them now!” Suddenly, he started drumming on his desk, an impromptu drum roll. “Our first guest is—” His eyes returned to the people by the side, one of them walking up and humming into the camera’s view.

“Hello!” Tuesday said, thrilled though still demure in her tone. She sat in an extra chair off to the side, rolling it up next to Pyotr and settling into the soft leather. “I’m happy to be here.” She smiled, cheeks flushed. It seemed she grew used to the spotlight.

“And we’re happy to have you here. Pow!” Pyotr said, clapping in excitement. “And our other guest is—ah, it’s not Carole, I’m sorry!” The clarification was quick as the chat went wild. “Actually, it’s one of their good friends, Roddy!” 

Since Roddy didn’t want his face on the Internet, he sat out of the camera’s view, reaching in by Pyotr’s face to do a light wave. 

“I hope we all have fun today!” Roddy said, lucky that technology now had much better mics; even with his distance, the sound was loud and clear. 

“Pow! I’m excited to get this started.” Pyotr, without warning, handed the other two their own controllers before picking up his own. The sight shocked most since he stuck to PC gaming. “We’re playing a console game for once!”

Tuesday and Roddy watched as Pyotr clicked on a few things, soon displaying the screen of a Nintendo Switch to the world. Already open was Super Smash Brothers and its character selection screen. Earlier, they chose to randomize stages.

“Ah, I’m excited,” Roddy said, though trying to hide how giddy he was.

Unbeknownst to both, Tuesday watched the chat, letting out a giggle. “Everyone’s surprised I play games?” she asked, somehow amused and confused at the same time. Without a second thought, she chose Peach,

“I only found out you did through Carole,” Pyotr pointed out as he selected his character: Little Mac. “You’re very good, though!”

“She’s _too_ good.” Roddy sighed, choosing Pit amongst the roster. “She kept winning until Carole asked her to change characters—”

“And I still almost won,” Tuesday said with a giggle, a sort of playfulness showing. 

As the two bickered on, Pyotr grinned and started the game. Jokingly, he glanced at the two and rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter since _I’m_ winning.”

Their characters dropped onto the stage, Final Destination, essentially a slap with lots of lights behind it. Then, without hesitation, they went at each other. 

“Pow!” Pyotr went wild with how he fought, letting Little Mac run around, hitting when he could and not bothering to use his shield. When someone in the chat called him feral, he couldn’t help but agree. With his wide eyes and wider smile, he looked too much like a little puppy with his favorite snack. 

Tuesday, compared to the other two, seemed to have a strategy as she moved about. She liked to use long-distance moves. Though she also took it a bit too seriously, concentration and fire to win appearing obvious on her as she leaned closer towards the screen. Her intense self made headlines the next day, and Carole would tease her for them.

The audience probably thought Roddy was as calm as possible, not letting out any gasps or groans of annoyance. Though what they didn’t see was a fire in his eyes, furrowed eyebrows, mouth agape. No, calmness was out of Roddy’s vocabulary, and he fought with a vengeance. He became aggressive; he didn’t hesitate to fight, even when he neared death.

“Oh, dear!” Tuesday cried out.

“Pow!” Pyotr kept repeating, even when he died.

“God fucking dammit!” Roddy said, perhaps getting too mad at a game. Carole would tease him for this, too.

Neither held back, and it was as if their wins were on a rotation: Tuesday, Pyotr, Roddy. Every round went that way with no one wanting it to, and yet they let it happen. They ignored the coincidence and, in the game, went on fighting.

And they fought

And they fought.

All three of them never realized three hours passed.

**Author's Note:**

> i would die for pyotr


End file.
